


a mechanic and a businessman step onto a bus

by fourhorsemen



Series: Tumblr [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Awkward Boners, Bottom Dean, Bus, Businessman Castiel, M/M, Mechanic Dean, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-04
Updated: 2014-10-04
Packaged: 2018-02-19 21:10:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2402993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fourhorsemen/pseuds/fourhorsemen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Featuring the “accidentally fell in your lap while standing on this crowded bus” au with Dean and Cas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a mechanic and a businessman step onto a bus

He can't believe he's on a bus. A crap-smelling, public transport vehicle of doom. A crowded, rectangular box with greasy poles that literally everyone has put their sweaty hands on. He could get _herpes_ from that! He is gonna kill the bastard that broke his Baby. He's also going to bully Sam into buying another goddamn car because Dean would not be caught dead driving that boxlike Japanese eco-thing. Whatever it's called. He'd chosen a bus over that thing. A goddamn bus.   
  
Another five people clamber on at the stop and the fatass next to him shoves into him and practically falls on him. Goddamn it, he fucking hates buses. 

  
\---

"Gabriel- I don't understand what do you mean you've borrowed my car- _Gabriel_!" he manages to say before there's a click and his irritating older brother hangs up on him.   
  
"Take the bus," is the last thing he had cheerfully said through a mouthful of whatever confection he had been eating at the time. He had told _Castiel_ to take a bus when he had all but stolen Castiel's perfectly functional car. A car he drove to work. Work which he would be late to unless he found another mode of transportation. A cab would be hard to find at the current rush hour and he would certainly not wave his arms about like a fool to hail one passing by. He was Castiel Novak, CEO of Heaven Corps.   
  
Castiel Novak, on a bus. Unspeakable. He is most displeased at this turn of events. 

  
\---

  
So of course the fancy businessman that gets on the bus at next stop gets a seat right away when a woman hastily gets up and rushes towards the door. Of course he gets a seat right away, a seat Dean was just about to take, because he has been gripping onto this greasy pole for 20 fuckin' minutes already and he's _tired_ but because he's a Winchester, he's cursed with crappy luck. Now he's stuck standing next to the guy that got the seat _he_ rightfully deserves.   
  
What the hell is the posh, prissy looking guy in a neatly ironed suit and tie doing on a bus anyway? Shouldn't he have a car of his own? Dean really hates the messy-haired, arrogant looking douche right now. He really, _really_ does. 

  
\---

He has all but sat down and he already has some working class, blue collar man glaring at him impudently. This is why he does not take public transport, because the general public is rude and does not show him the respect he is due.   
  
Do none of these people know who he is? Surely they must have seen his face on the latest issue of The Times and several other less respectable magazines with him as _The Most Eligible Bachelor Of the Year_? Clearly not, for the impertinent man is still glaring at him. He has in fact chosen to stand right next to him, as if in challenge. Castiel will not unseat himself for some lowly menial worker.  
  
He casually notes that he is young, probably a few years younger than Castiel himself, green eyes and a slightly stubbled face. A face currently set in a scowl and those same green eyes still staring at him angrily. 

  
\--- 

  
That thing about the Winchester luck? It was true. Two stops in, just about three stops from Dean's destination… (Why does Bobby's auto shop have to be so damn far anyway? Did he have to have a junkyard in the middle of fuckin nowhere?) A whole heaping _crowd_ of people come in through the doors. The already cramped space fills to the brim with people and Dean can barely breathe; this is a nightmare.   
  
The doors close abruptly, the bus jerks and in a horrifying domino effect, the guy next to Dean stumbles right into him, making Dean lose his grip on the stupid pole, consequently lose his balance and ends up on the lap of Mr. Fancy Businessman.   
  
His face has never gone _that_ red, _that_ fast in his entire life. 

 

*******

 

Castiel is minding his own business, staring out the window and marvelling slightly at the fact that so many people can fit into one small rectangular space when someone unceremoniously drops into his lap. His _‘oof_ ’ is lost under the loud yelp of the man who is now in his lap. The same man who had been glaring at Castiel this whole time for taking the only available seat had now made Castiel his seat. _This_ \- this was unacceptable.

Now, Castiel wasn’t too sure about personal boundaries – he was more than a little socially awkward (information which the media definitely should never have access to) – but he was quite sure sitting on a stranger’s lap was violating their personal space. He is about to protest exactly this when he realizes the man is blushing till the tips of his ears and is in the midst of a heated argument with the man who had presumably pushed him into Castiel’s lap (or that is what Castiel gathers from the green-eyed man’s furious expression). The accused seems to be a rather large, rotund middle-aged man.

“What the hell, man! Can’t you keep your fucking balance, fucktard? You fuckin’ shoved me!” the green-eyed man squawks, red-faced and Castiel winces at the volume. He makes a note to tell anyone who ever sits in his lap in the future to talk more quietly.

“I didn’t do it on purpose. You saw how many people got on the bus, it’s like a fish market in here!” the accused man exclaims defensively. The man in Castiel’s lap – he is not quite used to saying this, perhaps he should continue calling him the green-eyed man instead – glares daggers at the accused but seems to concede his point. The green-eyed man clambers off of Castiel’s lap quickly, mumbling a quiet, embarrassed apology and looking anywhere but at Castiel. That is when he faces a problem.

“Dude, move,” he grunts at the formerly accused.

“There’s no space!” the formerly accused man argues.

“Well, I need to stand _somewhere_ now don’t I?” the green-eyed man says in a dangerous tone. The accused does not seem to notice this.

“You looked pretty damn comfy on that guy’s lap, see how many people there are in here? I tell you, you should just stay there. Both young healthy young men, it’s not gonna hurt you any,” he rambles and the green-eyed man gapes.

“ _What the fuck?_ Did someone drop you on the head when you were a kid?! I’m a grown man I’m not gonna sit in someone’s lap cuz you can’t move your fat ass!” he shouts and instantly there are shocked titters through the crowd in the bus around them. The green-eyed man is steadily growing blue in the face with his furious tirade, there are disapproving and confused voices in the mix and _Castiel does not like conflict._

“Stop! Please! You are making a scene!” Castiel exclaims. The man swings around (as much as he can in the minimal space between Castiel’s leg’s and the seat in front of his) and stares at him. He looks shocked, as if he had forgotten Castiel was there. Castiel finds that slightly humorous as it would be difficult to forget the man whose lap you fell into a few minutes prior.

“There is clearly no more space in this vehicle and so I permit you to share this seat with me, unless you would prefer to stand there,” Castiel says sternly. The man who was being shouted at gives the green-eyed man a look that clearly says “ _see?_ ” and the man splutters. His mouth opens and closes like the fish Castiel once saw at an aquarium. For a long few minutes he just stands there, between two seats and caged in by Castiel’s legs as the chattering of the disapproving crowd dies down. 

“You… you may sit,” Castiel says awkwardly and averts his eyes when the man finally registers what Castiel has been saying. He tentatively sits down and Castiel is more prepared this time for the feeling of a warm weight on his lap. The man coughs, awkwardly – the back of his neck is so red Castiel wonders whether it is hot to the touch as well. He suddenly realizes his train of thought and now he feels his own face heating up.

There is a charged silence, in which Castiel cannot help but notice strange things such as how comfortable it feels or how shapely...- he banishes the thought.

 

*******

 

“Well this is awkward,” Dean mumbles.

“Yes, it is,” Mr. Fancy Businessman Whose Lap Dean is Sitting On (oh my fucking god) agrees.

“So… um. Dean Winchester,” Dean says and _wow what a time to introduce yourself_. Sometimes Sam’s not the only one who wants to smack Dean.

“Castiel Novak,” the-man-who-has-Dean’s-ass-on-his-lap replies. Dean starts – he’s definitely heard that name before. He just needs to figure out where- _oh._

“Wait, _the_ Castiel Novak? The CEO of Heaven Corps?!” he squawks and turns sharply halfway to get a good look at this man’s face. Which then conveniently puts about 2 inches between their faces, good job Dean. Wow… this guy’s eyes are _really_ blue _._ Dean mentally slaps himself for that thought.  

“… Yes,” Castiel replies stiffly and yep that _is_ him, Dean couldn’t possibly forget the guy whose face is splashed across the front cover of practically every business magazine _and_ The Cosmopolitan. Not that Dean ever reads that crap magazine. Ok, man sometimes the garage has slow days and really you should be asking _Bobby_ why the hell he has the fuckin’ Cosmopolitan in his ‘waiting room.’  

“Wait, I’m sitting on the lap of the most eligible bachelor of the year?” Dean blurts and feels his face heat up almost as fast as a few minutes ago when he dropped into this guy’s lap. Brain-to-mouth filter ERROR ERROR. Castiel seems to be at a loss of words. Dean chuckles self-deprecatingly.

“Ok, I could have phrased that better,” he admits.  

“Yes, you could have,” Castiel agrees.

\---

After this interesting conversation, the man – Dean – does not say anything else. The conversation should have ended on a stilted, uncomfortable note, but instead Castiel found the silence to be quite… friendly and comfortable. He finally feels relaxed, like he is again on even footing despite the fact that there is still a man sitting on his lap.

Castiel admits to noticing, objectively, that Dean is attractive. Castiel has never seen eyes in such a bright shade of green or freckles ever looking this becoming on anyone before. He also notices things like the shape of the man’s lips and the way his face flushes beautifully when he is embarrassed. That, however, is not something anyone needs to know. Especially not Gabriel. God forbid his brother ever find out he is attracted to a man he met on the bus. Not that he is attracted to him – of course not – he is merely… intrigued.

As if to spite Castiel, the bus gives another sharp jerk. Dean yelps and quickly grabs the seat in front of him for balance but Castiel instinctually seizes Dean’s hips to steady him. Dean’s face heats in mortification. Castiel valiantly ignores the tug he feels in his abdomen at that comely blush spreading across lightly stubbled cheeks and a freckled nose. Dean coughs and shifts a bit. Castiel pretends not to notice Dean’s embarrassment.

“Man, is this a bus or a rollercoaster?” he jokes weakly. Castiel hums in agreement but doesn’t remove his hands from Dean’s waist. He finds he likes them there. The shape of Dean’s hips is very pleasant… and distracting. He feels liquid heat pool at the base of his spine when Dean shifts tantalisingly, right against Castiel’s crotch. Castiel’s eyes widen in mortification – this is neither the time nor place to get aroused. This man knows who he is, if he notices Castiel’s shameful predicament…  Castiel imagines the horror of the Cosmopolitan getting their hands on a story like this… Gabriel would never let him live it down.

Castiel removes his hands from Dean’s waist as if burnt.

\---

Dean is pretty comfortable (a bit _too_ comfortable) sitting in Castiel’s lap, even getting used to the man’s broad hands clutching his waist when suddenly Castiel stiffens and takes his hands off quickly.  Dean frowns. What the hell was that about? Not that Dean wanted Castiel’s hands there, he was just… wondering what the hell happened to freak the man out.

“Uhm… Cas you okay? Feeling a bit stiff there,” he joked. Castiel makes a strangled noise and Dean’s confusion increases. What the hell, he shifts back a bit and _oh._ Okay, that. That is awkward and… a little hot. Oh God, no one can ever know about this. Especially not Sam.

“I- uhm. You- should I get up?” Dean squeaks and he can practically feel the embarrassment radiating off Castiel in waves.

“I’m sorry,” Castiel says and he sounds like he’s ashamed beyond belief. Dean starts to feel guilty because hey, it’s not like the guy knows Dean has a hard-on for him too. 

“It’s uh… My stop is the next one so it’s fine. I mean- it happens. Haven’t cleaned the pipes lately, huh?” Dean babbles and instantly wants to slap a hand over his mouth. Or sew it shut forever.

“No – I will vacate this seat, you can have it- I truly am really sorry-“ Castiel says miserably and tries to get up. Dean flails and nearly falls off Castiel’s lap but he throws his weight down just in time to get Cas to _sit down_. Which also puts Dean’s ass on Castiel’s crotch and Castiel chokes. 

“ _Dean-“_ Castiel hisses in mortification and tries to dislodge Dean again but Dean puts his foot down. Literally.

“No. It’s fine,” Dean says huskily and cringes because _damn it_ that’s his sex voice what is he doing practically giving the most eligible bachelor of the year a _lap dance_ , in public, on a _bus_. Castiel’s breath hitches but he stills. Dean slowly shifts back a bit, biting his lip when Castiel’s hands come to grip his hips. Tightly – son of a bitch that’s gonna leave bruises and why does Dean not have a problem with that? Dean rocks his hips the slightest bit, his face heating up for the umpteenth time this morning when Castiel instinctually thrusts his hips upward to rub his dick against Dean’s ass. _Holy shit._

And that is when the world decides to be a cockblock.

\---

Castiel is having the most intense sexual encounter of his life in a public transportation vehicle when the world decides that no, the most eligible bachelor of the year will most certainly remain a virgin.

Castiel does not like the world very much.

“That’s my stop,” Dean says breathlessly and even he sounds regretful. Castiel… may be projecting his own emotions. He hopes he is not.

“I see…” he says sadly and loosens his grip on Dean’s hips.

Dean ungracefully clambers up, shifting and miraculously finding space to stand in the bus. Castiel realizes belatedly that some space had cleared up after a few passengers left at the last few stops. Neither of them had noticed due to them being caught up in… activities.

The bus comes to a stop and Castiel tries not to look at Dean too forlornly. Dean seems to dither a few seconds, then he bites his lip and quickly reaches into his pocket for his wallet. He takes out a crumpled piece of card from his wallet and shoves it into Castiel’s hand before he quickly gets off the bus. He waves at Dean through the window and Dean smiles and waves back.

Castiel looks down at the card in his hand and sees a card with the words Bobby’s Salvage Yard printed across it in fading ink and a number underneath. He smiles uncharacteristically wide and carefully tucks the card into his coat pocket.

Castiel thinks he should pick up Gabriel a chocolate muffin from the bakery close to his office on the way home today.

After all, it was he who recommended the bus.   

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry. I have a thing for Dean sitting in Castiel's lap. I'm sorry for this.


End file.
